


Starts With One

by schwertlilie



Series: Starts With One [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, Consensual Gangbang, Consent Issues, Dehumanization, Gangbang, Hetalia Kink Meme, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spitroasting, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:51:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred, Arthur, and Francis are a group of vampire hunters on the trail of vampire!Matthew. Once Matthew is all chained up, they start using their libidos instead of their thinking-heads, and decide to let cute little Matthew have a last fuck before they take him out for "disposal" at sun-up. Like a last meal, but with more orgasms. It's a pity they don't know that vampirism is like a sexually transmitted disease; or that while Matthew's a sweetie, he's not exactly harmless...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starts With One

**Author's Note:**

> I made up the specifics of the particular vampires for this fic. No fangs, since I think that pushes the limits of "symptoms" of a parasite/virus, and why invest bodily resources in new teeth when you can just use a knife? For transmission, think HIV: the virus doesn't spread through saliva contact, but blood and semen are both vectors. Also, the boys don't ask enough questions, Matthew lies by omission, and he reaches a new low of _passive_ -aggression.

Alfred frowned at the vampire trussed up on the bed. This whole operation had been too easy - well, tracking it down had been average, it had paid cash everywhere it went and was discreet with its feedings. When they'd found its motel room, they'd warded the doors and windows and settled in to wait for dawn, and sunlight.

They hadn't expected it to open the door and say "Come in and get this over with, eh?"

It had been almost _docile_ as they crossed the threshold (careful not to disturb Arthur's chalk markings), tied its arms and legs with silver chain over its hoodie and jeans.

"Why are you doing this?" Alfred asked, standing near the bed while Arthur checked the locks and Francis covered it with his gun. "Suicidal, or something?"

"I don't like fighting," it said, wincing as the chain was tightened around its wrists. "I was surrounded, and it'd be a shame to leave the proprietor with the clean-up bill when you dragged me off in the morning."

"That's rich," Arthur said, moving off of the bed. "A monster like you caring about the fate of your food?"

"I have a name, you know."

"Really." Arthur picked up the wallet on the nightstand, flipped through the cards. "'Matthew Williams.' Good lord, it even _sounds_ fake."

It shrugged. "It's my real name. Translated."

Arthur snorted.

"So..." Alfred looked over at Francis. "What're we going to do? Play bridge for the rest of the night?"

"There's cable," the vampire offered helpfully. "And since you have my wallet, you could order out for pizza or something."

The three hunters turned to look at it.

"What? It's not like I'll get to use it after tomorrow morning." It glanced at the clock. "This morning," it corrected itself.

Arthur dropped the wallet to the bed, and walked out the door. When he returned, he threw a duffel bag at Alfred, then settled into an armchair with a dog-eared copy of _Udolpho_. "Eat your damned snacks," he said, opening his book.

"Spoilsport." But Alfred dug around in the bag, eventually pulling out a handful of candy bars. "Want one?" he asked Francis.

He moved to re-lock the door, and threw the deadbolt. "Non, merci," he said with a smile. "Though if I could have the remote?"

"Sure thing." He handed it to Francis, who arranged himself on the other chair and began channel flipping. "Wait, where'm I gonna sit?"

"The bed?" Francis suggested, passing by a string of wrestling tournaments.

"And put himself in biting range of that thing?" Arthur turned his page. "Yes, being a vampire will make Alfred a more effective hunter. After he kills us himself."

A soft noise made them all turn toward the bed.

"That's-" The vampire shifted against the pillows, cheeks colouring. "That's not how it works. I thought you guys said you were hunters?"

"Yeah!" Alfred grinned. "Heroes trained by the awesome Romulus himself!"

"Huh." He looked away. "Nevermind, then."

"No, no, tell us," Alfred wheedled. "It'll be way more interesting than-" he checked the TV, "war documentaries."

"Just.. think about it for a sec," he said, seeming not to notice the way Arthur and Francis were watching him from the corner of their eyes. "You were taught that a single bite can gift a human?"

"Curse, but yeah."

"So that we could potentially turn everyone we ever fed on?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wouldn't vampires eventually outnumber and kill off humans, if that was the case? Dooming us all to starve?"

"... You're almost making sense."

"Don't bother yourself with it, mon cher," Francis said. "It's probably lying to us."

"Why would I lie? I'm going to die after dawn, and I'd rather spend my last hours doing something _interesting_ than just sitting here, waiting."

Francis hesitated, then shrugged.

"So," Alfred said slowly, "how _do_ you make baby vampires?"

His mouth quirked, and Alfred tried not to notice how the smile lit up his eyes. "Blood to blood. That's why you were taught to wear heavy gloves while dismembering corpses, yes?"

"And you've watched hunters work?"

"Mm. My sire was, how should I say, 'disposed of' while I hid under a dead tree. All that was left was one of her hair ribbons."

"I'm sorry," he said, and he was surprised to find he meant it.

"They were just doing their jobs. And besides, even if a bite was dangerous, I wouldn't want to feed off of you lot anyway. You smell like you've been eating garlic."

Arthur half-smiled.

"Well, yeah!" Alfred flapped his hand. "Basic precaution."

The vampire wiggled his foot. "So. You going to keep standing there all night?"

"Oh. Right." He plopped down, looked at the bars in his hands. "Want one?"

"Thanks, but I can't hold it." He rolled his shoulders, shrugged. "Hands behind my back, and all."

"That's not a problem."

"Alfred-" Arthur said.

Francis stopped flicking through the channels.

"Jeez, Art, I'm not _stupid_. I'm going to hold it up, not untie him." He turned to the vampire. "Which one do you want?"

He shifted, squinting slightly through his glasses. "... The Oh Henry bar, please."

"No prob." He scooted up the bed to sit next to him, opened the chocolate bar package and his box of Reese's Pieces. "Say 'ah,'" he said, holding up the opened bar.

"Ahhhh." The vampire wriggled himself upright beside Alfred, so that they were hip-to-hip, and leaned down to take a bite of the chocolate bar. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," he said after he swallowed, "that's good. Fresh."

Alfred tried not to watch the way his tongue flicked over his lips for a stray crumb of chocolate. "I know, right?"

Francis made an amused noise, and settled on an episode of Iron Chef; Arthur turned the page of his book.

Iron Chef gave way to Hell's Kitchen, then a celebrity cooking show. The vampire had taken his time with the chocolate bar; Alfred's arm had gotten tired, so he moved the two of them until they were lying down, Alfred's elbow braced on the mattress. The vampire had rolled onto his side, to angle his neck more comfortably for the chocolate; when he finished, he'd decided to use Alfred's shoulder as a pillow, his breath warm against Alfred's collarbone.

While Alfred tried to ignore the growing problem in his pants, Francis and Arthur traded barbs - first about the French Iron Chef, then the Scottish chef. The American celebrity wasn't of interest to either, so Arthur turned his pages more frequently, and Francis began flipping channels again.

After fifteen minutes, Francis threw his hands up in the air. "Even the last stake-out wasn't so terribly dull. We have nothing to do until the sun rises."

The vampire snorted; Francis and Alfred turned to look at him. "What?" he said, the tips of his ears red. "I thought you were making an innuendo."

Francis began to smile. "I believe I stand corrected about 'nothing,' non?"

"Francis-" Alfred warned.

"Oh mon cher, there's no reason you couldn't join in too."

"But-"

"S'okay." Matthew nuzzled Alfred's jaw. "I've had a last snack, and a last fuck sounds good too. And don't tell me you haven't been thinking about it."

Alfred sucked in a breath when Matthew's tongue flicked out, against his skin.

"Then we are agreed." Francis clapped his hands together. "Alfred, would you like to go first?"

Arthur turned a page, loudly. "You've had some stupid ideas, you sex maniac, but this is one of your worst."

"And why is that, rosbif?"

"We spent a week tracking this thing, and now you're going to allow it a position of power over you?"

"You, ah, you don't have to." Matthew wriggled into a sitting position, and Alfred groaned at the loss of that warmth. "Put me on my knees, fuck me into the mattress, hold me down, whatever. You have options."

"You see, Arthur? It is all settled."

Arthur snorted. "Pervert," he muttered.

"There's lube and condoms in the book bag," Matthew said.

Francis raised an eyebrow.

"Just because I'm a vampire doesn't mean I don't get any, you know."

"Oui, oui." Francis moved to the far corner of the room to go through Matthew's bag, and Alfred decided it was time to sit up and kiss Matt.

Matthew's lips were soft against his, but a little chapped; and his jaw was clean-shaven when Alfred traced it with his fingertips. He tasted like a normal human, warm and tangy with a hint of chocolate and peanuts. Alfred chased those bits of flavour with his tongue; when Matthew made an encouraging noise, and no move to bite him, he dipped his tongue behind Matthew's teeth, the tip dragging gently against the ridges of Matthew's palate.

Francis cleared his throat and Alfred pulled back, looked over his shoulder.

Francis held up a toy polar bear, a red ribbon tied around its neck. "And who is this, I might ask?"

Matthew shifted uncomfortably. "Kumajiji. Keep looking?"

"Non, I found them already." Francis smiled. "I just needed to know who this adorable fellow is."

"Really." Matthew took a breath. "When I'm gone, just dump the whole bag in a Salvation Army donation box or something?"

"Very well. I'm sure a child would appreciate him." _Human child_ , Alfred heard underneath Francis' words, and he kissed Matthew again to distract him.

He felt the bed dip behind Matthew, Francis settling himself against the headboard. Ignoring it, he reached under Matthew's hoodie, the pads of his fingers dragging against Matthew's sides. Matthew moaned, arching into the touch, into Alfred's body, and _God_ it was almost embarrassing how quickly Alfred was hardening. He decided to blame it on the length of his latest dry spell (six weeks, not counting the time he and Arthur had been drunk, because, well, it was Arthur, and they were drunk), and started a game of keep-away with his tongue, keeping it just out of reach of Matthew's.

Matthew made a frustrated noise, and Francis chuckled. "Don't play too much, cher Alfred, there are others who want a turn."

"Others will have to wait." He nipped Matthew's bottom lip, moved his hands to the hem of Matthew's hoodie. "Okay?"

Matthew nodded, and he pushed the sweater up and over his head, hand going to hold the neck open far enough for Matthew's glasses to pass through. The hoodie caught on the chains binding his arms, but Alfred didn't dare unlock them. Instead, he licked down and across Matthew's collarbone, sucked gently over the knob of bone.

"I admit," Francis said over Matthew's shoulder, "I'm curious on how it's different from a person."

"I'm-" Matthew trailed off in a moan as Francis scraped his teeth ever-so-gently on one of the tendons running down Matthew's neck.

Alfred shivered in sympathy, remembering how Francis had used that as an argument-stopper on _him_ a few months ago, and mouthed the hollow of Matthew's throat.

"You're not a person," Francis purred into his shoulder. "You're a predator."

"Humans are predators."

"Humans are omnivores." Francis' hand slipped beneath the waistband of Matthew's jeans, and Alfred felt Matthew's groan against his tongue. "There's a difference. Alfred, be a dear and take its pants off."

"Your hand is already down them, and besides there hasn't been much-"

"You're ready, and as soon as I get the lubricant it will be to."

"But-"

"S'all right." Matthew kissed Alfred's temple, above the corner of his glasses. "Help me out of these?"

"I- All right," he echoed, and popped the top button of Matthew's jeans as Francis reached back for the lube. Then he _really_ looked at Matthew's legs, and frowned. "Wait, can you get on your knees?"

The curl fell into Matthew's eyes, and Alfred brushed it back behind his ear. "I can try. Catch me if I fall?"

He grinned. "Of course."

Matthew shifted his weight to one hip and bent his legs, so that his feet were next to his ass, and gave a little heave. He almost, not-quite made it, unable to get his legs beneath him; he tottered for a moment, then tried to bring his hands up on instinct... which over-balanced him and sent him toppling the other way.

Where Alfred had an arm out to catch him. "Gotcha," he said with a smile, bringing him up to both knees.

"My hero." Matthew's grin was brilliant, and sent a flush up the back of Alfred's neck. "Pants?"

"Wha-? Oh." His smile turned sheepish, and he unzipped Matthew's jeans, pushed them and his snowflake boxers as far down his thighs as he could; Matthew's half-hard cock bobbed in the air. "Sorry I can't take them all the way off, but..."

"I understand." Matthew leaned forward. "Your turn," he whispered into Alfred's ear.

Yep, the flush was on his cheeks now. He pulled off his t-shirt, and only hesitated for a moment before he wiggled out of his jeans and red-like-Superman briefs. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd been naked around Francis and Arthur, or the first he'd been about to have sex with them in the same room. It was just.. the first time he'd been about to have sex with a target. An adorable, _willing_ target.

Matthew's mouth closed on the shell of his ear, and Alfred stopped thinking.

His tongue was playing with Alfred's ear lobe when Francis cleared his throat. "Mon cher, turn it this way so Arthur can watch as well."

A page turned particularly loudly.

"Right, sure, uh." He pulled back, ignoring Matthew's little whine, and twisted them both to face the wall. "Good?"

"Oui."

Matthew nodded.

"Now," Francis - already naked - handed Alfred the tube of lubricant, "if you would do the honours?"

Matthew leaned down so that his ass was in the air, his forehead touching the comforter. "Any time, Al."

He tucked the hem of the hoodie up, between and around Matthew's arms, before noticing the nickname. Then he shrugged, flipped open the cap, and squirted some lube onto his fingers.

The first finger slid in easily, even with Matthew's legs tied together. After a few experimental thrusts, he added a second; there was a little more resistance, but not as much as he expected. "Done this before?"

"Yeah," he said, rocking backwards onto Alfred's fingers. "Last week, even- hnnn," he cut off as a third finger was added. "Yeeah."

He kissed the base of his spine, upwards as he pushed his fingers inside, a little deeper each time. "Does it hurt?"

"No, feels good." He turned his head as much as he could, and grinned over his shoulder. "Want more, though."

Francis made a small noise beside them on the bed.

"Well then." He took the condom Francis handed him; hissed softly as he rolled it on, added extra lube. He pushed his cock in like he had his fingers, short and shallow thrusts turning deeper and longer, his hands on Matthew's hips.

"Fuck," they said together with the first full, deep thrust. Matthew smiled, and Alfred chuckled, found his rhythm. Matthew moved as much as he was able, grinding back onto Alfred's cock when he pushed in, leaning away when he pulled out.

Alfred tried to pull him more upright, give him more ways to move, and swore when his lube-hand slipped against Matthew's skin, unable to keep a grip.

Matthew fell back against the bed with a soft "oof." Then he was grinding against Alfred again, leaning back. "Move," he said.

"You're-"

"I'm fine. Move?" Matthew moaned when Alfred pushed in, balls deep. "Yeah, like that. Just like that."

He leaned forward, placing butterfly kisses on the skin he could reach while he fucked Matthew. He could feel the beginnings of his orgasm building, curling low in his belly, and he'd probably be embarrassed about how not-long he's lasting if he wasn't busy reaching around for Matthew's cock.

Matthew shook his head. "No. Not yet."

"What about you?"

"After. Francis still wants a turn. Just - mm - just enjoy yours." He dropped his head back to the bed, and clenched around Alfred's cock.

"Oh _fuck_." His hips slammed forward; he pulled out, and when Matthew tightened he slammed in again. "Matt-" he said, building into a chant as he got closer to orgasm. "Matt Matt Matt Matt _Matt-_ " And oh god, Matthew kept going, milked him dry as he came.

His hands slipped forward and he followed, rested his forehead between Matthew's shoulder blades. "God," he whispered.

Matthew hummed in response.

Francis was the one to break the silence, nipping Alfred's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Peachy."

"Then there are others who would like their turn. If you would...?"

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled off and out, falling next to Matthew on the bed. Francis only took a moment to adjust his condom before sliding into Matthew, the bastard. Didn't bother to clean him up or anything. Alfred watched Matthew's face while Francis arranged himself; while Alfred removed and tied off his condom, tossed it into the garbage. Discomfort, then satisfaction as he looked at Alfred.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He scooted up so he was face-to-face, and Francis began to fuck Matthew; Alfred smiled a little when Matthew didn't grind back, or clench around him. "A little sleepy, though," he said, running a finger over Matthew's lips.

Matthew tilted his head to take the finger into his mouth, smiled around it as he swirled his tongue over it in time with Francis' thrusts.

Alfred swallowed, and wished he hadn't just come so he could fuck Matthew's mouth too. "You have an oral fixation or something?"

Arthur closed his book with a loud thump, and set it on the desk. He walked around the bed, unzipping his slacks and pulling out his erection as he went, and stopped in front of Matthew. He hauled Matthew's head up by his hair, Alfred's finger falling from his mouth, and just looked at him for a moment. "If you bite me," he said quietly, "I'll kill you here and now, no matter how much of a mess it makes."

Francis made a small noise of protest, his thrusts pushing Matthew toward Arthur's crotch.

"Be quiet frog."

Matthew breathed in, out. "I know," he said.

"Well then." He knelt on the bed, his other hand guiding his erection to Matthew's mouth. "Suck."

Crowded, Alfred moved back to the foot of the bed to watch Matthew close his mouth over the head. An eyeflick between Arthur and Francis, and the two synchronised their rhythms, Arthur thrusting slightly before Francis so that Francis would push Matthew even further down Arthur's cock. Perverts. Alfred saw the moment Matthew gave up trying to use technique and just allowed the two hunters to fuck him, sucking lightly on Arthur when he could.

Arthur's free hand touched Matthew's jaw; he slid his thumb inside, pushing Matthew's jaw further open and his cock farther down his throat. Matthew made a high-pitched noise, gasping when Arthur pulled back only to protest again when he slid back in.

"Don't forget what I told you," he said, voice soft and growly.

"Rosbif, your threats are making him forget the other who is inside him."

"Yeah, well the sooner I'm done, the sooner- ah, you'll get his undivided attention again."

"Which, from your expression, will be soon."

"Belt up." But he gasped as he said it, snapped his hips a little harder than before.

Arthur came with a quiet curse, buried as far down Matthew's throat as he could get. He paused, eyes closed, then backed off of the bed, letting Matthew's head fall back to the comforter, tucking himself into his pants before resuming his seat and reopening his book.

Matthew rested against the bed, panting, his lips red and swollen. He licked the corner of his mouth, and breathed.

"Matt?" Alfred asked, touching his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'll be fine, Al." He raised his head up. "You do that to all your targets, Arthur?"

"Only the bound ones," he replied mildly, and turned the page.

Matthew snorted.

"Alfred darling," Francis murmured, "would you be a dear and help hold up our friend here? Say, about forty-five degrees?"

"Uh, sure?" At Matthew's nod, he crawled over, pulled up his shoulders until he could nuzzle Alfred's collarbone. A hand on his chest kept him in place. "Good?"

Francis changed his angle, and was rewarded with a soft moan. "I'd say 'yes,' then, Alfred."

His free hand came up and combed through Matthew's hair, over his cheek. Matthew began to push back against Francis' thrusts, bound hands fisting and releasing; soon he was making quiet, needy noises.

"Francis?" Alfred asked.

"If you wish, mon cher," he said, voice a little breathless.

He kissed Matthew's cheekbone. "I've got you," he murmured into his skin, and slid down the bed until he was face-to-face with Matthew's erection, hand still on Matthew's chest. He gave the head an exploratory lick, flicking his tongue under the edge of his foreskin.

Matthew gave a full-body wriggle. "Please," he breathed.

So Alfred took the head into his mouth, his hand stroking what his tongue couldn't reach, and he thanked god for all his years of weight training and arm muscles. He didn't fight Matthew's hip movements, or the way Francis pushed him further into Alfred's mouth, instead letting them move the head between his lips, his tongue stroking down from the crown and up from beneath the head. His hand cupped Matthew's balls, rolled them in his palm before he traced the veins on the underside of the shaft with the pads of his fingers. Matthew moaned, made encouraging noises; but when Alfred dug the tip of his tongue into the juncture of foreskin and shaft, Matthew _writhed_.

So Alfred did what any self-respecting person would do: he did it again.

"Please, Al," he begged, "please, please, Al, please..."

Alfred let his fingers wander, but his mouth stayed glued to that spot as Francis thrust his hips forward one last time, as Matthew promised him anything, anything at all, just _please don't stop_. It shouldn't have been a surprise when Matthew came, but it was, and he jerked back, using his palm to catch what didn't land in his mouth. Matthew sagged against the hand on his chest, eyes open but unfocused.

Francis disappeared, then returned with a wet washcloth, minus his condom. He hummed as he wiped lubricant from Matthew's legs, reaching between to clean as much as he could.

Alfred waited until Matthew pushed against his hand for leverage, trying to kneel on his own. "I didn't expect you to taste like a human."

"What else would I taste like?" he asked quietly.

"I dunno, old blood and crushed dreams?" He extended his come-covered hand above Matthew's shoulder. "Francis, give me a wipe?"

"Certainly." But instead of his washcloth, he drew his tongue across Alfred's palm.

Matthew "eep"d, then watched with interest as Francis meticulously cleaned Alfred's hand. Yeah, Francis' mouth had the effect on people.

"That's not what I meant," Alfred said.

Francis licked his lips. "I know. Hm, tangier than most I've had, but not to an extreme. Did you drink pineapple juice at some point yesterday?"

"Um, no?"

"Ah. Well, now we know." The bed shifted, and Francis wandered back to the bathroom, one hand snagging his pants as he went by.

Matthew looked down at his legs, back up. "Tuck me in, please?"

Arthur snorted, turned another page.

"Sure." It was somehow more difficult to get Matthew's clothes back _on_ him properly than it had been to get them off. After fighting with the jeans they decided to not bother with the button, and the hoodie required careful handling to get it untangled without dislodging the silver chains. "At least you already have a hood to keep the sun off until we get to the burial ground," Alfred joked as he moved one piece of chain off of Matthew's wrists and onto the cuffs of his hoodie.

"I guess that's a good thing?"

"Yep, you won't go out looking like a dork with one of Arthur's hand-knit balaclava-thingies on."

" _Execution hoods,_ " Arthur corrected. "Four hours to sunrise, boys. Alfred, get some sleep."

"I'm not a _boy_ anymore, old man." Alfred gathered his clothes, shimmying back into his briefs and jeans.

"If the rosbif is an old man," Francis called from the bathroom, "what does that make me?"

"Well preserved," Arthur said.

Alfred's snappy comeback was cut off when Matthew yawned into his shoulder. "Tired?"

"Mm. Haven't been able to sleep in with you three chasing me."

"Neither have we. Lift your butt?" He pulled the blankets out from under Matthew's body, and over top.

"At least you can switch off, have one sleeping in the car or something." Alfred yawned, and Matthew tapped the pillow with his head. "It's easier to sleep in a bed than on the floor, you know."

"... Promise not to try anything?"

"I'm chained up and you've warded the entrances. I _can't_."

"Good, 'cause if you did we'd have to kill you early, and we don't want to break from the plan." He slid into bed, let Matthew cuddle up to him.

"Neither do I," he said, head on Alfred's chest.

"You're one weird vampire." He let his hand tangle in Matthew's hair.

"How many have you met?"

"Point taken. ... Want me to take your glasses off?"

"Please."

He put the curved black frames on the nightstand, and Texas beside them, then settled down into the mattress. Matthew smiled against his skin, and Alfred fell asleep to the sounds of quiet breathing, pages turning, and the shower running.

~ ~ ~

Alfred woke, however, to the sounds of Arthur yelling and stumbling around.

"What the bloody fuck did you do?!"

"Wha? Me?" He lifted his head, hand curling lightly in Matthew's chest hair.

"No, you prat, your bloodsucking fucktoy!"

"Art, you fucked him too-"

"I," Matthew said quietly, "didn't ' _do_ ' anything."

"The fuck you didn't! I slept through dawn, even though I was supposed to stay awake, it's now the middle of the afternoon, and I can't fucking see!"

"... You looked out the window, then."

"Yes, I bloody well did."

"Ah."

"What do you mean, 'ah'?"

Matthew stretched his hands above his head, hummed.

Alfred froze, then dove for his duffel bag and his trusty Colt. "You're not wearing your chains."

Francis pulled his knife, even if he still looked groggy in the armchair, and Arthur stopped moving.

"Huh? No. They loosened while you were fucking me last night, and I took them off a little after dawn. Thank you, by the way, for putting the chain on the cuff instead of skin, it made it much easier."

Alfred flicked the safety off.

"God, Alfred, I could have left. But I didn't. I could have killed you. But I didn't. Put the gun down?"

"We warded the entrances," Arthur said.

"You missed the bathroom window. The extreme light sensitivity and sleepiness are just part of the adjustment process, made worse by your garlic supplements. Go back to sleep and we'll deal with it after dusk - the room's paid for until tomorrow, and I requested no cleaners."

"Adjustment to _what_?" Alfred asked.

It tapped its chin, then pointed at Francis, "Fledgling," Arthur, "fledgling," Alfred, "and fledgling vampire. Welcome to the Williams family."

"I don't-" Alfred loosened his fingers, re-gripped his gun. "We didn't share blood."

"Oh, I never said that was the _only_ was to make baby vampires." It smiled, and _shit_ there was the glitter Alfred was used to seeing in vampires' eyes, that he hadn't seen last night. "You," it pointed at Arthur, "split my lip when you forced my mouth further open last night, and got my blood on your cock. You two," it pointed at Francis and Alfred, "swallowed my come. Any of you could have put a condom on me - which I couldn't do, since I was _chained up_ and all - or on Arthur. There were plenty to go around. But you didn't, and here you are."

"You planned this," Francis said, knuckles white against the knife handle.

"Mm."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like fighting, and you three are interesting."

Alfred flinched, and Arthur leaned on a chair. "You could have died."

"And you lot could have avoided this by practicing safer sex, or picking another target. You didn't, and I didn't." It shrugged. "And now, you have two options: one, kill me now and take your chances out there, on your own. Two, sleep through to dusk and let me take you to a safe house. Your choice."

Alfred's arms were getting tired, but he couldn't lower the gun. Not yet. "What will you do with us?"

"Teach you how to survive. After that, it's up to you." It looked between them, and yawned. "Anyway, that's something you need to decide for yourselves. Wake me when you've made up your minds."

"You dump this on us, then just go to _sleep_?" Alfred growled.

"Forcing you to follow me, and needing to watch out for assassination attempts every moment of every day, would be interesting, but not _fun_. If you're going to kill me, get it over with. If not, we can discuss it when you're ready." With a vague wave of its hand, it curled back into the blankets.

Alfred looked at the other two, let his finger fall away from the trigger. "Well," he said.

"Indeed," said Arthur.

Francis looked at his knife blade. "What now?"

Arthur felt his way down into the chair, sighed as soft snores filled the room. "We decide."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to [Hetalia Kink Meme](http://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/75473.html?thread=454208465#cmt454208465), May 2010. Matthew's "sire" is/was Seychelles, and Rome is a mighty vampire hunter. "Udolpho," or more properly "The Mysteries of Udolpho," is a classic English Gothic novel; make of that what you will.
> 
> One of the things that's floored me about this fic was the remixes/alternate endings that came out of it - if you liked this, please give the anons a look too!
> 
> Alternate Ending 1: [Ends with One](http://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/75473.html?thread=454532049#cmt454532049), where no one gets turned and Alfred is too nice for his own damn good. Complete.
> 
> Alternate Ending 2: [Running With Two](http://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/75473.html?thread=456076497#cmt456076497), where only Alfred is turned and he runs off with Matthew. Abandoned WIP.


End file.
